


Quiet

by StarshipDancer



Series: Reddie Fics [7]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged Up, Fluff, M/M, No Dialogue, Reddie, Soft boys being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 12:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13146498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarshipDancer/pseuds/StarshipDancer
Summary: 'Richie Tozier wasn't good with the quiet. He hated the quiet.... He always fought the quiet, battled it with Voices and jokes and loudness to make sure he wasn’t drowned by it. If he was lucky, somebody would laugh, acknowledge him, and he would feel the quiet of his own mind even less.'





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something for the holidays, but I'm kinda sick and feel like shit, so sorry this is a little short. I wanted to write something with no dialogue, and somebody commented on one of my fics how they like Richie and Eddie being soft (I'm sorry I forget your name, if I remember when I'm feeling better, I'll mention you here). So have some soft boys. Happy holidays, all!

Everything was quiet. Not an unsettling kind of quiet like you hear when you’re a kid, when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention and you feel like some _thing_ , some _body_  is watching you from every angle. Creeping along behind you, just waiting for you to let your guard down. That was a deafening quiet, a dangerous quiet, a quiet where every bad thing you ever feared lurked right in the shadows and could get you, would get you, if you so much as dared to blink.

This was not that kind of quiet.

This quiet was peaceful, sweet, welcoming, warm. The kind of quiet you feel when you’re __that__ lucky to find that _one_  person. You know the one. The person that makes you feel complete, _so fucking complete_ , like you’d been born split in half and you hadn’t realized it until you met them. That beautiful, wonderful, soul-encompassing _, blissful_  quiet of being with somebody that loves you. That you love back.

Richie Tozier wasn’t good with quiet. He hated the quiet. The quiet let the thoughts return to his head, the self-doubt his parents had beaten into him until his heart was as bruised as his body. He always fought the quiet, battled it with Voices and jokes and loudness to make sure he wasn’t drowned by it. If he was lucky, somebody would laugh, acknowledge him, and he would feel the quiet of his own mind even less.

When the right person started laughing, started acknowledging him, Richie clung to him. Picked on him. Teased him _mercilessly_ , and you know what? That little shit gave it all right back. Complemented his stupid jokes, called him out when he was gong too far, and laughed at all his Voices before telling him how bad they were.

Eddie Kaspbrak was the _one_  for Richie. And that didn’t mean that he loved him, no. Richie Tozier did not love Eddie Kaspbrak in the beginning, at least not in that way. He loved the way Eddie always fought back, how he looked small and fragile but was an actual ball of spitfire and good comebacks, how he would call Richie a dumbass but then help patch him after after Richie did something fucking stupid and got himself hurt.

No, Richie didn’t love Eddie in the beginning. But he did now. Now, with limbs tangled and fingers clasped together. Now, with Eddie’s head resting on Richie’s chest because he liked to hear Richie’s heart beat. Because he liked to hear the rumble of his voice when he spoke and the quiet of his breath. Because Richie felt warm and solid and real, and Eddie liked to trace the freckles scattered across his throat. Eddie didn’t even have to look anymore; he’d played with those patterns so many times, he knew their placement by heart.

Richie rested his head on the top of Eddie’s, basking in the warmth and care and love he felt from the boy in his arms. Outside was cold and cruel and unforgiving, and he wouldn’t have left the safety of Eddie’s room, of Eddie’s embrace, for anything.

Not yet.

Not until the sun came up and glistened through the frost on the window. Not until they heard Sonia Kaspbrak thunder awake and begin calling for her son to come down. Not until Eddie held onto him tighter, _tighter_ , and begged for just a few more minutes, and Richie would hate denying him even five fucking minutes.

Richie thought of days to come. Of graduation, just around the corner. Of the prospect of college on the horizon.

Of the acceptance letter delightfully weighing down Richie’s pocket. Of the tears on Eddie’s cheeks last night because _Richie had got in, of course he got in, he was so smart_. They were going to leave Derry together and never look back, never, _never_. Leave and live and be together. That was the Plan, and people would try to stop them, say they didn’t know what they were doing or that they were too young to know what they wanted.

But Richie knew what he wanted, and he had his arms wrapped around it. And when Eddie would crane his head to look up at Richie, eyes shining with intensity and soul-searing adoration, Richie knew that he was what Eddie wanted, too. No fucking doubt about it.

Richie bent to press his mouth to Eddie’s. Eddie, who leaned up and into him, aching to be closer. Whose hand slid along Richie’s throat and up into his hair to play with the wild half-curls at the base of Richie’s neck. Who hummed in appreciation, in love, in desperate need for more. More kisses, more closeness, more Richie. That was fine; Richie would give Eddie all he had to offer because he knew Eddie would do the very same. He always had. He always would.

Everything was quiet. Peaceful, sweet, welcoming, warm quiet, and for once, Richie didn’t mind the quiet. Now now. Not anymore.

Richie Tozier felt complete.


End file.
